


Midnight Rider

by jelly123



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Non-Consensual Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9819440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly123/pseuds/jelly123
Summary: It's been 418 days since the world went to shit. Four hundred and eighteen gruesome fucking days, and no one was the same. Heh, if you actually thought about that, it’s true, in so many ways. They had either turned into one of those things, or become something not quite human. Their humanity gone, only wanting to survive. Which is, if I’m to be completely honest with myself, where I was at.





	1. Bad Moon Rising

**Author's Note:**

> I can't tell you where this will go, I just started writing and wanted to share.. I will try and update regularly.
> 
> Side note: This takes place before the Governor's attack on the prison, and probably continues after to Alexandria. Haven't written that far ahead yet.

It's been 418 days since the world went to shit. Four hundred and eighteen gruesome fucking days, and no one was the same. Heh, if you actually thought about that, it’s true, in so many ways. They had either turned into one of those _things_ , or become something not quite human. Their humanity gone, only wanting to survive. Which is, if I’m to be completely honest with myself, where I was at. I’ve been on my own for so long, I can’t remember what it’s like to be around another person. Well, another living person that is. But, I’ve survived this long on my own, no need to change that now, not that I want to.

Before all this started, I was already what you called a loner. I never fit well with anyone, wasn’t disliked per se, just not overly friendly, I guess. It never bothered me. I went about my business and not too many paid attention. I liked it that way, was happy with it. Much like how it is now, but with more dead people up and walking around. And a lot more assholes.

You can say, people will be people, even with the fucking apocalypse staring them in their damned faces, and their “primal” instincts in overdrive, but it doesn’t give them the right to just take.

A month or so ago, I ran into a group of men. When I say ran into, I saw them before they saw me, and I tried to double back and go around them, but one of them had gotten up to take a piss, and spotted me. Seeing as it was the first time in a long while any of them had seen a woman, they took it upon themselves to take what they wanted. I can’t tell you how wrong they were to try something with me. The whole thing ended with most of the guys missing teeth, quite a few groin injuries that they wouldn’t be recovering from for a while, a good chunk of their food and water supply taken and the threat that if any followed that a lot more would be missing than their teeth.

Since then I’ve been more careful, taking to sleeping in trees, wearing baggier clothing, my long brown hair tucked into a baseball cap. I knew it wouldn’t keep me much safer, disguising myself, but it put my own mind at ease, hoping that someone would be less willing to take advantage of what appeared to be male, than a female, trekking through on her own.

I was both right and wrong in my thinking. It’s been 418 days since shit hit the fan, 43 days since my run in with the men in the woods, and 7 since my last good night’s rest. I was careless, not noticing the sounds of voices, the telltale sign of someone walking in my direction.

“Look over there Dylan. He doesn’t look much older than 15. Easy pickings.”

“We’re really going to mug some kid? C’mon Rog, leave him be.”

“No way man. Hey! Hey you boy!”

My head whipped around to the sound of someone calling out, before realizing they were calling to me. _Well shit._

“Ya, you,” The older looking one called, pointing at me, “C’mover here son.”

By now I was aware of my surroundings, fight or flight definitely kicking in, wary of the two men, now walking towards me.

“You deaf boy? I said c’mhere.” He was too close, and he grabbed my arm, shaking my tired body.

“Rog, I told you to leave the kid be. Listen son, we don’t want any trouble. My brother here is just a little on edge. You can understand that, right?” The younger one explained, trying for me to, understand? I don’t know.

I knew talking would be the end of them thinking I was a boy, so I just nodded.

“I’m Dylan, and the man who doesn’t have any manners, is my brother, Roger. You out here all alone?” Dylan asked.

Again, I just nodded.

“What’s the matter with you kid, rotter got your tongue? Answer someone when they ask you a question.” Roger snarled in my ear, his grip on my arm tightening.

“Man leave it be, the kid’s probably been through a lot. We all have. Let him go Rog.”

“Not until the little brat learns some respect.”

With his left hand still holding my arm, he brought his right hand up and struck my face. Knocking my cap to the forest floor, a gasp of air leaving my lungs, from the blow or the fact I was probably in more trouble, I couldn't tell ya.

“Well, well. Look what we have here.” Roger’s face had curled up into a sinister snarl. “We have ourselves quite the pretty young thing, don’t we Dyl.”

I looked over to Dylan, hoping his wanting to let me go would continue. That was mistake, his face had twisted into the same expression as his brother. All hope of just being let go was gone.

“And to think, I was going to get my brother to let you go. Sorry sweetheart, it’s nothing personal. Just it’s been an awful long time since we’ve even seen a woman, and it’d be a shame if we just let you slip through our fingers.” Dylan laughed.

Great. This was it. The last time this happened, I was well fed, and had a solid eight hours of sleep under my belt, but now? There was no way I could fight them off in the state I was in. Crumbling in on myself, I set my resolve into just letting them have what they wanted, and hopefully they would just leave.

“Not even going to put up a fight. This one might be a keeper. I’m going first, you can have her when I’m done little brother. Then maybe, if there’s anything of her left, we’ll take her back to Joe.” Roger grinned, undoing his belt and jeans.

I choked down the sob that was threatening to escape, tears welling up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. Roger pushed me onto the ground and began removing my jeans, I forced myself to not look at either of them, keeping my focus on the soft grass in my line of sight. Trying to keep my thoughts far away from what was happening, back to when the world wasn’t the steamy pile of shit it is now.  But I had no luck, I was drawn back into what was happening, the second I heard the man spit on his hand and grab at my naked pussy. Bile rose in my throat, pushing to escape. I thankfully kept it down, saving myself at least that indignity. I could feel his weight pressing on top of me, the tip of his cock, searching for my entrance. Smell the sweat and dirt from months of travelling in the Georgia summer. I cried out when he slide home, the pain of the sudden intrusion almost blinding. Roger didn’t let me adjust, he pulled back and snapped his hips forward in a quick, harsh stroke, hungry for release. Tears had started to fall down my face, but I was beyond caring that they saw them. I kept silent after that, letting him finish, knowing that they weren’t done with me yet.

It wasn’t much different with Dylan, only he flipped me onto my back, held my throat and made me watch as he fucked me, awfully pleased with himself for outdoing his older brother. It wasn’t long before, he too, was finished with me.

“I dunno Rog, I think we were enough for her. Wouldn’t be fair to bring her back to Joe like this. Besides, he’ll be pissed that we took her for ourselves, and didn’t leave any for him. I say we just leave her here.” Dylan called over to his brother, zipping his fly back up.

“You might be right baby brother. Grab her bag, if she’s lucky, some other son uva bitch will find her and take a piece for himself, if not she can be rotter food.” Roger laughed as Dylan grabbed my bag, leaving me on the ground and walking away.

I didn’t bother moving, everything was sore. I’m sure I’ll have bruises by morning, if I make it that long. I didn’t have anything to defend myself, and would I be able to anyway? I’m not entirely sure I could move, if I did even try. I just lay there, watching as the sun began to set, the cooler night starting to creep into the air, listening for the sounds of the men coming back, or _worse_. There was no way I was sleeping tonight, I’d rather face my death, then sleep through it like a coward. I had done one cowardly thing already today, I was not going to continue that.

It was way past dark when I heard the twig snap, my head jerking in the direction of the sound, praying that it was just an animal passing through. My blood running cold when I saw the shadows of a group of people, mostly men, walking right towards me.

“We shouldn’t be this far, this late. C’mon Daryl, we have to head back.” Surprisingly it was a female’s voice.

“If you’s want to turn back, go ahead. I ain’t going.” A gruff male voice answered.

“It’s no use to be out here, we’re not going to find anything. It’s too dark Daryl. The others have to be wondering where we are by now.” Another voice said, trying to convince this Daryl to go back.

“And I already told you, Glenn, if ya’ll are too chicken to be out here now, go back. I can handle myself out here.” The gruff voice spoke again, must be ‘Daryl’.

I watched as the group didn’t leave “Daryl”, and they started walking closer. I started panicking, realizing they would trip over me if I didn’t move. I shifted, trying to move out of their path.

One of them must have heard me move, because they all stopped, a flashlight sweeping across the forest floor, landing on me.


	2. Ramble On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This portion will be in third person. The rest won't jump back and forth too much, but every so often it will. 
> 
> Thank you so much for those who've already been following, and left kudos! It means so much to me!

The group wasn’t sure what the flashlight would reveal, but a young woman, laying on the ground, clothes ripped and torn away from her body, was not it. They knew they’ve seen some horrible things since the dead started walking, but this? This was new to them.

She didn’t look like she’s been here that long, maybe just before sun set, but she was terrified, eyes darting back and forth, trying to assess who had found her.

One of the men stepped forward, but Maggie held her arm up to stop him. Opting to go closer to her instead, knowing that no man was going to get anywhere near that girl right now.

“Hey,” She called softly, “There’s no need to be afraid. I’m going to come over to you, is that okay?” She asked, watching the girl’s face for her reaction.

“Ye-” The woman tried to answer, but the words caught in her throat, so she nodded instead.

Maggie walked slowly towards her, arms up, the way you would approach a wounded animal. Which was exactly what this poor girl looked like, scared and extremely wary of the other bodies standing behind her.

“Hey Sweetie, it’s okay, the guys aren’t going to come anywhere near you, not unless you say so. Can you tell me your name?” Maggie said, crouching down.

“Cas,” She started to say, voice catching once more. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Cassie.” Voice barely a whisper.

“Hi Cassie, I’m Maggie. I’m just going to look over your injuries real quick, alright?” She asked. Cassie just nodded again, not sure about her voice.

She worked quickly, trying to save the girl anymore embarrassment, taking note of the bruising around her neck, and dried blood on her face. Doubt fleeting from her mind about what happened out here. She grabbed her pants to hand them to her, and noticed that they were practically torn in two.

“Do you have any other pants on you?” She asked, looking around for Cassie’s bag.

“They took my stuff.” She answered, tears evident in her small voice.

“It’s okay. Daryl?” She called behind her.

“Yeah?” A gruff voice called back.

“Can you bring me your poncho?” Maggie asked, a hand flying up to grab her arm. “I won’t let him see, and he won’t get any closer than an arm’s length.” She said, turning back to Cassie.

Cassie nodded, grateful that Maggie turned the flashlight away from her when Daryl approached, handing her the worn piece of clothing.

“Here.” She offered once Daryl had moved back away. “It’s not much, put it’ll cover you. Do want help, or do you think you can put it on yourself?” She asked.

“Help.”

Maggie helped her sit up, gently placing the poncho over Cassie’s head, it falling well past her knees. Standing back up, Maggie stretched out her hand, which Cassie accepted, helping her stand as well. The wince barely audible as she put weight back on her legs, but knowing she was covered, and that the woman beside her wasn’t going to let the men come too close, Cassie felt better.

They walked away from the spot she was just laying, over to where the men were standing, keeping watch. Their attention back to the women, once they saw them approach.

“Cassie, this is Glenn, Daryl and David.” Pointing to each man, as she said their names.

“You okay?” Glenn asked, stepping forward.

“I guess so.” Cassie answered, trying to keep her answers short, still getting used to hearing her voice again.

“Do you have a group?”

“I have no one.”

“Maggie, did you ask her the questions?” David spoke up with.

“Haven’t gotten to that yet. Wanted to make sure she was okay first.”

Cassie looked around the group that had found her, curious to know what they were getting at. She was used to being alone, but maybe they would offer her somewhere to stay, even for just a little while.

“How many Walkers have you killed?” Maggie asked.

“Lost count.”

“How many people have you killed?” Daryl asked.

“2.”

“Why?”

The words froze in her throat, could she tell the story without breaking down? She had to try. “It was just after it started, my sister and nephew were bit. We knew what that meant, and, she, uhm, she asked me to. She knew she couldn’t do it herself, and she didn’t want her son turn into one of those, those things. He was only 2.” The last word was only a whisper, no strength in her voice.

Silence followed her answer. Each one weighing the truth in it, there was no way someone could make that up on the spot, let alone the way her voice caught in her throat as she finished.

“We’ll let the other decide. She needs medical attention, and I can’t do that here. We’re too exposed.” Maggie spoke up, breaking the silence.

The others nodded, knowing it was better and safer to discuss this inside their walls. Maggie gently placed an arm around the woman’s shoulders.

“We have a place, a few miles back. Get your injuries looked at properly, have something to eat. Even a bed to sleep in.” Maggie smiled.

“I’d, I’d like that. Thank you.” Cassie answered.

The rest of the way back was quiet. The men spaced out around the women, to form a perimeter around them. Mostly for Cassie’s benefit, as even Maggie herself had her weapon drawn, eyes sweeping the woods around them for danger. But the actually short trip was uneventful.

Cassie let out a gasp as it came into view. Even in the moonlight, she could see the fence, the walls.

‘Some place safe.’ She thought to herself.

“Welcome to our home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little short this time around, but I'm hoping the next chapter will shape up to be longer! 
> 
> Thank you all again! And I hope you are still wanting to see where this will lead! (I know I do! Lol).


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